


A Very Special Birthday

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baking, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Birthday Sex, Dirty Talk, Love Confessions, M/M, Object Penetration, Quidditch, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, The Burrow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-16 02:12:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Draco has seven birthday presents for Harry. They all involve lube.





	1. Present, Cake, Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the HD Birthday Bash Fic-Tac-Toe Challenge. My card is [here](https://ic.pics.livejournal.com/hd_bash_mod/27271251/1282/1282_900.jpg)! 
> 
> I plan to update this everyday until Harry's birthday, so look out for lots and lots of smut and fluff. Unbeta'd. Thanks for reading!

Draco loved Harry, but sometimes he had a hard time showing it. They’d only been dating for six months, which meant they were still getting to know each other. 

It scared Draco that he had such strong feelings for Harry. Six months was too early for _love_ , but Draco couldn’t help it. He’d loved Harry since they were eleven years old. 

_Stop_. He was embarrassed by his own thoughts. There was no proof that he’d loved Harry since he was a child. He’d hated Harry. He’d wanted to see him defeated. He’d wanted to see him _dead_. None of that equated to _love_.

Draco gritted his teeth and tried to focus on the cookbook in front of him. He was quite good at lying to himself.

It was a week before Harry’s birthday, and Draco wanted to make it special for him. Really, really special. He wanted to render Harry speechless. He wanted Harry _throbbing_ for him. He wanted Harry to beg him. But first Draco had to bake him a cake.

His mum had loaned him the cookbook. She seemed puzzled when he’d asked for it. “I didn’t know you could cook,” she said. 

“I can’t.”

She smiled a little. “Why don’t you just have Minny bake him a cake?”

He hated that she predicted his intentions. He must’ve had _pathetic_ written all over him. “No, I want it to be me.”

Back in the kitchen, he flipped through the book, scowling. None of these recipes were right for Harry. He’d hate a fancy cake. He’d want something simple, something that screamed _homemade_ , something that would make him happy. He wouldn’t want anything too _pure blood_.

Finally, he found a recipe for a simple vanilla cake. _Good_ , Draco thought, and Summoned the necessary bowls, utensils, and cookware. 

Draco eyeballed the measurements of flour and sugar; he accidently added three eggs instead of two. Oh well. He was _experimenting_. He knew you had to be careful when measuring out potion ingredients, but he was baking a cake, not brewing _Amortentia_. There was room for mistakes!

He beat the batter until it was utterly smooth. It was only after that he read he shouldn’t _overwork_ the batter, which he didn’t even know was an option. 

Cursing, he threw the mess into a cake pan and then slid it into a cold oven. He waited and waited, not understanding why the cake was taking so long to bake. He glanced around the ancient kitchen. Merlin, he’d splattered flour and milk everywhere.

Draco heard the Floo roar to life. Harry was home.

Harry trudged down to the kitchen. He looked exhausted. His face was a little pale, his hair as crazy as ever. 

“Hard day at work?” Draco asked. 

“Yeah.” Sighing, Harry fell into a chair. He gazed at the mess on the counter. “Are you cooking?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. It’s for your birthday.”

He frowned. “My birthday isn’t for a whole week.”

“I know. It’s called practicing.”

“Oh.” He smiled. “I’m excited to see what you come up with.”

Draco went back to the oven, frowning. He tested the cake with his wand. It was still gooey in the middle. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Did you preheat the oven?”

“Damn it!” He waved a wooden spoon in the air. “Why am I always mucking up food?”

“You probably just need to pay more attention.”

Draco sauntered closer. “I guess you’ll need to punish me.”

“I would rather you punish me.”

Sucking in a breath, Draco leaned even closer. “Oh, yeah? Have you been a bad boy?”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Absolutely.”

“Bend over the table! Trousers and pants down!” Draco said cheerfully. "I want to give you your first present!"

Harry hesitated. “But . . . the table is covered in flour.”

Draco twirled the spoon between his fingers. “Do you want me to punish you? Yes? Then do what I say.”

Laughing nervously, Harry stepped out of his trousers and pants, then bent over the table. Draco licked his lips. He ran his hands over Harry’s warm, warm cheeks, groping, massaging. He pulled apart his cheeks to glimpse his pink hole. Harry moaned and buried his head in his arms.

“Such a pretty arse,” Draco said.

“God.”

Draco leaned down and licked over Harry’s hole, tasting sweat. 

“Fuck,” Harry said, trembling. “I’m not prepared.”

“I don’t care.” Draco loved tasting Harry like this. He loved knowing his body’s secrets.

“At least cast a cleaning spell before fingering me.”

Draco sighed. “All right.” He licked Harry some more, drooling, getting him wet. He drilled into him, loving that he felt his hole opening just a little.

“Please.”

“Yes, love?”

“I need you. I need your fingers.”

Draco unbuttoned his own trousers and sneaked a hand into his pants to stroke his aching cock. He loved it when Harry begged. “More, love. I want to hear more.”

“Please. I want your fingers. I want you to hurt me with your fingers.”

“What about my cock?”

“I want you to fucking ruin me with your cock.”

“I don’t know. I might not want to give you the satisfaction.”

Harry groaned loudly. “Please, Draco. _Please_.”

Draco grabbed the spoon. He traced it over Harry’s cheeks, watching his back and thighs for a reaction. Harry jerked.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

He spanked Harry lightly. “Yeah?”

“Harder.”

He spanked him harder. Harry jumped, then moaned.

“Harder. Please.”

He wanted to hit Harry with all his might, but he forced himself to slow down. He was getting too worked up. Alternating cheeks, he spanked Harry with the spoon, watching as his flesh bloomed red. Harry moaned and shook. Draco kissed and licked his abused skin.

“Want more?”

“God, Draco, put it in me.”

Draco paused. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I want it. _Do it_.”

He muttered a cleaning spell, then Conjured up lots of lube. He checked the handle for splinters. Fuck. He was really going to do it. 

Carefully, he pressed the end of the spoon into Harry’s wet hole. Harry moaned and arched into it. 

“Like this?”

“Yes. God, yes.” 

He didn’t know how far he should push it in. When half of the handle was inside Harry, he stopped. “Still feel good?”

“Fuck, it’s so hard.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No - but -” He thrashed.

“What do you need, love?”

“Fuck me.” Harry wiggled his hips. “Fuck me with it.”

Draco gulped. His mouth was so fucking dry. “You’re not prepared. We should go slow.”

“I don’t care. I want it. Just - _fuck_.”

Draco moved the spoon in and out of his arse. He couldn’t look away. It just looked so damn _wrong_. He sped up his thrusting a little. Harry twisted, trying to follow. He was beautiful when he was this needy.

Unable to wait any longer, he muttered a spell that made the spoon fuck Harry on its own. He walked around the table, trailing his fingers over Harry’s back. 

“Do you want my cock?”

Harry, looking dazed, nodded quickly.

“Open.”

Moaning, Harry shuffled closer to the edge and parted his lips. Draco thrust into his mouth. He braided his fingers in his soft hair, anchoring, as he fucked him hard.

Harry gave a muffled cry. He arched into the spoon.

Draco was panting. His thrusts were brutal. “Touch yourself. I want you to scream around my cock.”

Harry’s hand disappeared under the table. His arm flexed as he stroked himself quickly, his long lashes fluttering. Draco’s orgasm approached, but he forced himself to not look away. He wanted to see Harry tip over the edge.

“Come, love,” he panted. 

Stilling, Harry moaned loudly, saliva escaping his mouth, his eyes rolling back. He was coming and coming, but Draco didn’t stop fucking his mouth. His own orgasm caught him by surprise; he threw his head back as he shot his load down Harry’s throat.

Through the haze, he muttered a spell and the spoon stopped moving. Harry winced as he pushed himself up.

“All right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Harry gently pulled the spoon out. He stared at its drenched end. “Christ.”

“Come here.” Draco wrapped his arms around him and kissed him deeply. 

Harry pulled away, laughing. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t really think - I just wanted to do it.”

Harry laughed again. “I’m fine. Stop worrying. I’m a little surprised, that’s all.”

Draco bit his lip and looked down. “It’s your birthday week. I wanted to do something special for you.”

“You will spoil me.” Harry pulled him closer and kissed his ear. He whispered: “I love that.”

Draco tried not to shiver. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“Let’s play Quidditch like old times.”

Smirking, Draco said, “Fantastic. Another chance to beat your arse.”

Harry faked a wince. “I dunno if my arse can take another beating.”

Draco’s smirk widened.


	2. Snitch, Happy, Wand

The next day the sky was like clear ocean, blue, cloudless, ready to be traversed. They were in a field near Malfoy Manor, or what remained of it. A few months after the war, the Ministry had burned his home to the ground. It’d taken Draco years to forgive them.

Still, he liked to visit the remains, even if the property held terrible memories. He and Harry spent hours walking the empty garden, picking through the blackened earth. Sometimes the destruction overwhelmed Draco, and Harry held him close as he cried into his shoulder.

All of it was why Harry picked this field to play Quidditch. He knew it would bring Draco some happiness to be this close to the ghost of his childhood home. 

“Ready?” Harry said, straddling his broom.

Draco smirked. “Always.”

Harry threw the Snitch into the air, and the little golden ball darted away. They kicked off the ground and zoomed after it. Draco squinted into the sun, determined. Harry laughed and blew him a kiss.

 _Prat_ , Draco thought, and accelerated. Now, it was for real. Harry dived quickly, his hand outstretched. Draco followed, not sure if he was faking. Right before Harry hit the ground, he pulled up on his broom and avoided the collison. Draco nearly toppled head-first over his broom. 

“Remember that trick?” Harry yelled, laughing.

“You are such an arse!”

“A winning arse!” Harry zoomed away. Draco chased after him.

They played for a good hour, weaving low around trees, shooting up toward clouds. Harry’s face was bright, bright; he laughed even when Draco almost caught the Snitch. Flying made him so damn happy, and Draco was thankful that he got to see it. 

In the end, Harry caught the Snitch, which infuriated Draco. He’d been _so_ close. Losing to Harry Potter was the story of his life.

Jumping off his broom, Harry held the Snitch high, flaunting his win.

Draco dropped to his feet and shook his head. “Pure fucking luck. That’s all.”

Shrugging, Harry said, “Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose; but with me you’re always losing.”

Outraged, Draco came after him, not really knowing what he intended to do. Harry laughed and backed away.

“Are you going to chase me?”

“I’m going to _ruin_ you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely,” Draco said, prowling closer.

Harry stumbled, his chest moving quickly. Want was written all over his sweat-licked face. Draco caught him in his arms, and they fell to the ground, laughing. Draco kissed him deeply, their lips parting. They spent some time tasting each other, and Harry bucked up, his erection pressing into Draco’s hip.

“So desperate,” Draco said.

“I’m always desperate for you.”

He spelled off Harry’s clothes from the waist down. Harry shifted and suppressed a grimace.

“Your arse still hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Only a little.”

“Turn over. Let me make you feel better.”

Harry moaned and quickly moved onto his stomach. He widened his thighs, debauched, his head buried in his arms. He was such a slut for Draco, even though he was always trying to hide his face during sex.

Draco parted his cheeks. “Oh, love.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“You should’ve waited before flying.”

Harry’s arse was raw and swollen; it must’ve been very painful to ride his broom. Draco licked his hole, hoping to soothe. Harry trembled and blabbered.

“What are you trying to say?” 

“Fuck, give it to me. I don’t care.”

“No, no. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Draco, _please_.”

“Shh, love. I got you. I’m going to make you feel so good.” He pawed for his wand and cast a healing charm on Harry’s flesh. Magical ointment would be better, but that would have to wait until that night.

Harry moaned liquidly. “Oh, that feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Draco trailed kisses over his cheeks, up to the small of his back, then back down. He licked Harry again and again, massaging his hole gently. It was less swollen now, but much more wet.

“Please,” Harry said into his arms.

“What do you want, love?”

“I want you inside me.”

“No, you’re too sensitive.”

“I don’t care!”

“Turn back over.”

Harry turned over, and he was hard and wet and desperate. Draco sat back on his heels and just stared. He didn’t think he’d ever get over seeing _Harry Potter_ like this. Harry was hard for _him_ ; he was desperate for _his cock_. 

Drace gave his shaft a broad, hot lick; Harry let his head fall back, groaning. He was trembling a little, and Draco touched his thigh, his belly. It was intoxicating to make Harry feel this way.

Muttering a lube spell, he slid a gentle finger into Harry’s arse. Harry panted and tore at the grass.

“Is this okay?”

Harry twisted on his finger. “More.”

Laughing hotly, Draco added a second one, moving in and out slowly. He liked watching himself fuck Harry; he liked watching his flesh open for whatever he wanted to put inside him. He quickened his fingers just a little, reaching up, wanting to brush his prostate. 

Harry shuddered, his mouth falling open. There it was. 

Draco kissed his thighs, then took his bollocks into his mouth. He licked and tongued them, his nose full of Harry’s scent. 

“Oh, hell,” Harry moaned.

Draco smirked around his mouthful. His own cock ached, but he didn’t try to touch himself. What he was about to do took coordination. 

He dragged his tongue up Harry’s shaft, drooling a little, getting him nice and wet. He sucked him into his mouth, deep, until the tip hit the back of his throat. The increased pleasure made Harry thrust, which nearly choked Draco, but he relaxed his jaw and took it. 

“Fuck, like that. Fuck, Draco.”

Draco sucked harder and sped up his thrusting fingers. Harry’s stomach clenched from the pleasure, his thighs now trembling horribly. He was on the edge, Draco could tell.

“Coming - fuck -”

Draco bobbed his head, knowing the suction of his mouth felt like fucking heaven. Harry threw his head back, thrusting without control, his cock jerking on Draco’s tongue. He was coming, and it was a lot, maybe too much; but Draco took it; he took it so fucking well. 

When Harry had calmed down, he pulled Draco into an embrace and buried his face in his shoulder. “Do you think anyone saw us?”

“No,” Draco said. 

“Aren’t there farmers around here?”

“Sod ‘em.” 

Harry laughed. He tried to sneak his hand into Draco’s trousers, but Draco stopped him.

“This was one of your presents. I don’t want it to be about me.”

Harry was unconvinced. “You don’t want me to get you off?”

Draco shook his head, unsure if he could properly explain. “Just - let me pleasure you. I want to make you happy. I want to make you feel special.”

“Oh, I do,” Harry said, laughing.


	3. Jumper, Present, Cauldron

“No, sir, I don’t think you should mix potions.”

“But - my headaches are _terrible_.”

Draco sighed. “Then I suggest you go to hospital to get yourself checked out.”

“Why do I need to do that when potions work perfectly well?”

“Because -” _you idiot, something could be wrong!_ Draco smiled blandly. “It’s your decision, but you shouldn’t mix the potions. The ingredients could cause a bad reaction.”

“But -”

“Pardon me, I must attend to something in the back room.” Draco fled from the customer, afraid he’d end up calling him a _sodding moron_. The last thing he needed was to get sacked around Harry’s birthday.

There were many tasks to complete in the back, so Draco spent a good twenty minutes checking the bubbling cauldrons, their steam causing his short hair to stick to his forehead. He thought about Harry. Of course, he thought about Harry. It seemed like he was always thinking about him.

His pocket vibrated. For a moment, he didn’t understand, but then he remembered: It was his two-way mirror, tiny, only used for emergencies. His hands trembled as he fished it from his pocket.

He tapped his wand to the mirror and said, “Hello?”

Harry was on the other end, panting, his cheeks bright pink. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I drank the potion. It was so stupid of me, and now -”

“ _What potion?_ ” His heart thumped quickly, his mind racing. He had some potent stuff back at Grimmauld Place; Harry could’ve gotten into anything.

“It was a present for my birthday. I uncorked it just to see what it smelled like, but, Merlin, the fumes . . .”

“Fuck,” Draco muttered, bringing the mirror closer to his face. “How much of it did you drink?”

“All of it.”

“Fuck!” Draco rubbed his face, thinking hard. “That was an aphrodisiac! You weren’t supposed to drink it all!”

“I know! The scent messed with me. It felt like I was pissed.”

“Harry,” he said, shaking his head, unable to really believe this was happening.

“Please - come home and help me. It will only take a minute.”

“Out of the question! I can’t just leave the shop.”

“Please, Draco. I’m desperate. I’m so fucking hard for you.”

Draco gulped thickly. “You will take care of it yourself, but I want to watch.”

Groaning, Harry wet his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“Take off all your clothes.”

“But - look at what I’m wearing.” Harry muttered a hovering spell on the mirror and stepped back. He wore pants and Draco’s Weasley jumper.

“You dirty boy.”

“I am.”

“Take off your pants then. Keep the jumper on.”

Harry did what he was told, his chest beating up and down, his cock hard and dripping. “What now?”

“Fill yourself up. Get yourself nice and ready for me.”

Harry sat back on his sofa and balanced his feet on the cushions, which gave Draco the perfection view of his arse. He cast a lube spell and easily worked two fingers into himself. 

“Draco,” he panted.

“Are your fingers in deep? Yes? Now, move them in and out of your tight hole, going slow at first, then picking up speed.”

Harry thrust his fingers, his eyes focused on Draco in the mirror.

“Think of me as you fuck yourself. Think of my thick, uncut cock pounding into you.”

“Oh, God.” Harry arched into his fingers, following his hand needily. His head fell back, and Draco zeroed in on his hard cock bouncing with his movement.

Draco was panting heavily. Afraid he was making too much noise, he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle himself. Did he risk touching himself? Merlin, he didn’t know. Wanking on the job was definitely a way to get sacked.

No, he could wait. He wasn’t a hormonal teenager anymore. He had control over his needs. 

“Draco,” Harry moaned again.

“Touch yourself. I want to see you wank.”

Harry tugged at his cock, his toes curling. He fell into a rhythm of fucking himself, his hand a desperate blur on his shaft.

“Are you going to come?”

Harry nodded quickly.

“Then come for me. I want to see you lose control for me.”

Moaning loudly, Harry quickened his thrusting and tugging. He shook, his face red and sweaty. He was grunting with each hard tug on his cock. 

“Come, love. Give it to me.”

Harry cried out and spilled over his hand, his hips jerking. 

Draco pressed his palm into his own cock, afraid he’d come in his pants. 

When Harry had calmed down some, Draco smirked and said, “You aren’t done. I want to see you lick your fingers clean.”

Harry gaped. “All of them?”

“Yes.”

“And you call _me_ dirty.”

Draco laughed.


	4. Jumper, Enjoy, Snitch

The next night, Draco wore his Weasley jumper just to annoy Harry. It was a warm evening, but he cast a cooling spell before setting out. Harry was embarrassed about the incident with the potion.

“You kept going on about how you wanted to make everything so special for me,” Harry said, “so I thought I’d show you that I was really into it by being super hot for you when you came home.”

Draco laughed and shook his head. They were strolling down a quiet street, which was a miracle for Muggle London. “It never occurred to me that you’d be so stupid to drink it without me around. You know how powerful potions can be.”

“I thought you knew what you were doing,” Harry mumbled.

“At least we were still able to have some fun.”

Harry brightened. “True.” 

There was a moment of silence, a few Muggle cars zooming past, causing Draco to startle a little. No matter how many hours he spent away from the wizarding world, Muggle technology always alarmed him.

Muggle food also alarmed him, or what he considered to be Muggle food, which was any food that he wasn’t used to eating. This included burritos, which Harry somehow loved. Draco had pledged to finally try one with him. 

They stopped in front a restaurant called _Burrito Time_. It was trying really hard to be hip. They wandered inside, and immediately his attention was drawn upward to the Muggle speakers hanging from the ceiling. All the decor was loud, industrial, incredibly ugly. Young Muggles hated sophistication, symmetry, comfy public seating. The neon graffiti on the walls made his head spin.

“All I want is for you to try it,” Harry said, pressing a gentle hand to his back. 

“I can do that.”

“I don’t want you to pretend to enjoy it just for me.”

Draco’s lips curled. “I can _definitely_ do that.”

Harry laughed. They stood in the queue with Muggles with piercings in their faces and watercolor tattoos on their bodies. Draco was fascinated. He stared openly until Harry nudged him and whispered in his ear: “Stop being rude.”

Draco whispered back: “No.”

Harry got even closer. “If we were alone, I’d bite your ear. Hard.”

“Yeah? If we were alone, I’d be on my knees for you.”

Harry’s eyes flashed. He didn’t get to respond, because it was their turn at the till.

“How does this work?” Draco asked the bloke behind the counter.

“Build your own. Tell me what you want and I’ll include it. We now have tofu.”

“ _Tofu_?” Draco was disgusted.

Harry intervened. “First, choose between steak or chicken.”

“Steak.”

“What kind of rice and beans?”

“There are different kinds?”

Harry sighed. “He’ll have white rice and black beans. Do you want salsa?”

“What is that?”

“Oh hell.” Harry grinned at the bloke. “Make his burrito as plain as possible. For me, I want all the salsa.”

When they sat down at a table, Draco sneered a little at his plate. He didn’t know how he was going to eat the burrito without embarrassing himself. Harry took an enormous bite of his, some of the spicy salsa smearing his lips.

Draco followed Harry’s lead and nibbled on his own. He struggled holding it, so he laid it down and cut into it with a knife and fork.

“Christ,” Harry said, his mouth full. “You are always so damn posh.”

“What? I don’t want to put my hands all over something I’m eating.”

“Except for me.”

Flushing, Draco rolled his eyes. “Ha ha.” They fell into a comfortable silence.

“Good?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. “The steak has good flavor.” He stared again at the Muggles. “You should get a tattoo.”

“Oh? What should I get?”

Draco thought for a moment. “A Snitch.”

“Where?”

“On your bum of course.” 

Harry laughed and took another large bite from his burrito. “A Snitch tattoo wouldn’t be so bad. I could get it on my upper arm. That’d be cool.”

After dinner, they strolled around a nearby park, watching as the sky turned an inky blue. The electric lamps glowed softly; Muggles lounged in the cool grass, under the dark trees, laughing, chatting. 

Draco pressed Harry to a tree and kissed him deeply. He tasted spicy, warm; Draco licked into his mouth, wanting to go deeper. Harry moaned and opened for him. Throbbing, Draco thrust a little, wanting to feel all of Harry.

He pulled back to kiss Harry’s chin, his cheeks. Harry’s eyes were so fucking beautiful behind his glasses; Draco had always loved his eyes, even before they’d known each other. He remembered staring at photographs of him in the _Prophet_ and hoping that they would be friends at Hogwarts.

“Harry,” Draco whispered, desperate to convey this deep, consuming feeling. He tried dropping to his knees but Harry stopped him. He’d brought lube with him especially for this moment.

“We don’t need to have sex.”

“But - it’s your birthday week. I want you to enjoy every minute of it.”

“Sex isn’t the only thing I enjoy about being with you.”

“Wow, really?” Draco faked shock.

Harry smiled. “Prat.” He took out his wand and cast a privacy charm; then he turned them around to press Draco to the tree.

“What are you doing?”

“You deserve pleasure, too.” He dropped to his knees. Draco gasped softly.

“Wait -” He took out his wand and cast a cleaning charm on Harry’s mouth. They both laughed. 

“Good catch.” Harry slid his trousers and pants down to his thighs. He stared for a moment before wrapping a hand around Draco’s cock and stroking slowly. “Such a pretty cock.”

Draco huffed. “It’s not _pretty_.”

“Sorry. What did you call it yesterday? It’s _thick_ and _uncut_.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s definitely uncut; I don’t know about thick . . .”

Draco buried his hand in his hair, tugging. “It’s thick enough to choke you. Open.”

Harry stared up at him, his eyes very dark. “Make me.”

Draco tightened his hold and yanked Harry’s head back a little. Harry’s lips parted, his cheeks taking on color. Draco pressed his cock into his mouth, not stopping until he hit his throat. Using both hands, he fucked his mouth, not letting him move, barely letting him breathe. Fuck. Fuck. It felt divine.

Moaning, Harry relaxed his body and opened his mouth wide. His glasses were crooked, his eyes fluttering. Draco pulled his jumper up to his armpits so he could see his thrusting cock, his flexing stomach. 

He sped up his thrusts, the tip of his cock breaching Harry’s throat. Harry grunted and slurped; when Draco went too deep, he gagged loudly but didn’t pull away. Draco’s head spun. _Control yourself_ , he thought. He wanted to thrust as hard as he could; he wanted to get his hands around Harry’s neck and _squeeze_. He wanted Harry to feel trapped; he wanted Harry to beg; he wanted Harry to know who owned him. 

A few Muggles walked past. Draco watched them. One of them looked in their direction, and Draco imagined they were on view. He imagined all of these silly Muggles being able to see him _dominate_ the Boy who Lived. Harry was _his_.

“Fuck, fuck -” His thrusts lost rhythm, his thighs buzzing with pleasure. He felt his orgasm in his bollocks, building, almost ready to blow. Fuck. Who needed the Manor when he could fuck Harry Potter’s mouth? Who needed acceptance, forgiveness, when the man he loved was on his knees for him?

Draco looked down, and Harry was watching him. It was like he knew exactly what Draco was thinking.

Throwing his head back, Draco came loudly, thrusting hard. Harry gagged and moaned, his mouth doing its best to milk Draco through his orgasm. 

Draco, head spinning, limbs like liquid, pulled away. Merlin. His cock was still twitching a little, so wet and red. Harry grinned up at him, his mouth swollen, his chin dripping. Harry licked his cock, cleaning, teasing. Draco hissed and jerked back.

“I love your cock,” Harry murmured.

 _I love you_ , Draco wanted to say. Instead, he cleaned them up and tucked himself back into his trousers. He kissed Harry deeply, tasting salt and semen. 

“What do you want? I’ll give you anything.”

Harry nibbled on his bottom lip. “Let’s go home and watch some telly.”

“You don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No, not tonight.”

Draco was too knackered to argue. “Okay.”


	5. Cauldron, Party, Wand

The next morning Draco woke up Harry by wanking him slowly, carefully. He kissed Harry, over and over, swallowing his moans, tasting his breath. He cast a lube spell to get him wet, so wet, then quickened his strokes. He was desperate to shag him, but he was saving that for later.

A few hours later, Draco stood in front of the Burrow, scowling. Mrs Weasley had asked him over to plan Harry’s birthday party. He assumed the planning would take two days, and he didn’t look forward to spending them with the Weasleys.

He knocked on the door. Mrs Weasley let him inside.

“Come in, dear! I’ve been looking forward to this!”

_I’m sure you have_. He knew she’d been dying to spend more time around him, to figure out exactly how he’d nabbed Harry Potter when her daughter had not. 

They took up chairs in the seating area. There was tea waiting for them on the coffee table.

“Thank you,” he said, sipping from his cup.

“You are quite welcome.” She perched a tiny pair of eyeglasses on her nose and read over a list on parchment. “I heard you will be making the cake for Harry.” She looked at him above her glasses. “Can you handle that?”

He forced himself to smile. “I think so . . . but I don’t have much experience baking.”

“Do you want my help?”

He hesitated. “I wanted the cake to be something special I made for Harry.”

“I understand. I just want to help.” She continued to stare at him.

“Your help would be gratefully appreciated.” 

“Oh, good! We can make it together!” She smiled at him in a way that said _I know I’ve won_. “I heard you are good at potions.”

“Yes, madam.”

She laughed. “Please, call me Mrs Weasley.”

“Yes, Mrs Weasley.” 

“I wanted to make these Snitches that fly in the air, but George said it’s better if I dip them in this potion first. He says it would make them fly longer.”

Draco nodded. “ _Forever Volantes._ ”

“Yes, that’s it! Do you remember how to brew it? He gave me the instructions, but they are hard to follow . . .”

“I can brew it for you. It will take me a few hours though.”

“That’s okay. I just need your opinion about some decorating choices.”

“Okay.”

They went into the kitchen. He genuinely smiled when he spotted her old cauldron hanging in their blackened fireplace. He ran his hand over its rough side.

“This is antique,” he said.

“Yes, it was my great grandmother’s.”

“It’s terrific quality. I bet you can make practically anything in it.”

She flushed. “Thank you, dear.”

She had all the potion ingredients laid out, some prepared, others not. “I chopped and sliced and juiced what I knew how.”

“It’s enough. I appreciate it.”

He focused on preparing the remaining ingredients. She worked at the table, humming under her breath as she stringed ribbon together with her wand.

“Do you like the colors? I thought they were too Christmas, but I think Harry would like it.”

Green and red ribbon wrapped together to make pretty garland. He stared at her, wondering if she understood what she’d done. 

“I thought you’d like the green, too.”

He gulped. “Thank you again for making me a jumper.”

She flapped her hand. “Oh, stop. You’ve thanked me enough. Didn’t you send me two owls, a case of mead, and three boxes of chocolate?”

_Four boxes_ , he thought. “I wanted you to know how much it meant to me that I was included. I know our families don’t have the . . . best history.”

“No, we don’t.” She smiled. “But that’s in the _past_. I want both of you to be happy!”

He stared some more at her. He didn’t know if he could believe her. He re-focused on his work.

Fifteen minutes later, he had the potion bubbling softly in the cauldron. “See how it bubbles throughout, not just at the sides? The cauldron’s doing that.”

“Very neat.” She held up a giant banner with a Snitch zooming amid puffy clouds. “Too much? I always go with a Quidditch theme for his birthday, but it’s what he asks for . . .”

“I think it’s great,” he said.

“Really?” She searched his face.

“ _Really_.” He was glad that Harry had the Weasleys in his life. He deserved all the love he could get.

She grinned. “You are such a sweet boy. Do you want a butterbeer?”

“Yes, thank you.”

When he returned home that night, an owl was waiting for him from Harry. They weren’t officially living together, but he spent more time at Grimmauld Place than at his own flat.

_How did it go? I hope she didn’t drive you mad. Love, Harry_

He responded truthfully: _It was fine. I enjoyed myself. I’m going back tomorrow to help bake your cake._ He hesitated, wondering if he should sign off with _Love, Draco_. He decided to end it with a _Goodnight. -Draco_.

He sighed as he watched the owl disappear into the warm night.


	6. Cauldron, Cake, Snitch

Baking the cake with Mrs Weasley turned out to be quite enjoyable. When she realized he was interested in learning to bake, she went slow with him, line by line in the cookbook, watching his technique, stopping him when he was overlooking important details. 

“You must _measure_ the vanilla, dear.”

He frowned. “Sometimes you can estimate tiny amounts of ingredients.”

“Yes, but vanilla is _temperamental_.”

He didn’t know if he believed that, but he measured it just like she wanted. 

He grew to understand why Harry liked the Burrow so much. It was warm and full of love; Mrs Weasley smiled kindly at him and fed him delicious sweets and strong tea. As the cake baked, they inspected her cauldron again, murmuring appreciations and trading stories of brewing mishaps.

Later, Harry popped in to say hello.

“Get out!” Draco said. “You’ll spoil our surprise for you!” 

He pulled out a Snitch from his pocket. “Fancy a match? I doubt the garden holds many secrets.”

“Off you both go.” Molly shooed them to the door. “I’ve got loads of things to still do before tomorrow.”

Draco hesitated. “Do you need my help?”

“Oh, Merlin, no, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness.”

Harry beamed at him.

Outside, the sun cast warm shadows over the garden and the trees swayed in the light breeze like dancers. They borrowed two old brooms from a dusty cupboard.

“Ready?” Harry grinned.

“Of course.”

They pushed up, going high, high. Draco was determined not to lose; he followed Harry closely, not falling for any of his fake outs. Their brooms knocked together, the Snitch dashing from their outstretched fingers. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Draco spotted the little bugger again. He zoomed fast, the world a blur. He knew Harry followed closely, but he didn’t pay any attention. He stretched out his arm, determined, so determined . . . He would finally beat Harry . . . the Snitch would finally be his . . .

Harry barreled into him, knocking them both off course. They fell to the ground, grunting, rolling around in the grass.

“You bloody cheater!” Draco said.

“I never cheat. I win by pure talent!”

Enraged, Draco hauled him to his feet and Disapparated them without warning. 

When they reappeared in Grimmauld Place’s lounge, Harry stumbled back. “That was rude! I should’ve told them I was leaving!”

Draco flapped his hand. “They will forgive you. Don’t worry your pretty head.”

Harry snorted. “I’m not _pretty_.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Smirking, Draco stalked closer. He dragged a finger down Harry’s warm chest. “You are pretty and vulnerable and in need of a good scrub.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “You want to take a shower with me?”

“Hell yes.”

In the shower, Draco pressed him to the damp tiles and snogged him. Harry moaned and clutched at him. Draco stroked their cocks together, swiping his thumb over their tips, his fingers moving slowly, almost teasingly. He cast a lube spell to make everything slick, but the water washed most of it away. 

“God,” Harry said.

“Feel good?” Draco was smiling, the warm droplets pouring over his face.

“Yeah. I love it.”

Draco shivered. He loved hearing Harry say the word _love_. He thought about the owl from last night, and quickened his hand.

Harry moaned, his head falling back against the tile. He was trembling.

“You want to already come. I can tell.”

“Yes,” Harry hissed.

“Then come for me, love. I want it.” Draco kissed him deeply. 

Groaning low in his throat, Harry pulsed between his fingers. Draco followed quickly after, thrusting against his softening cock.

Trying to catch his breath, Draco said, “Shall we wash up now?”

“Yes.” Harry laughed, his eyes full of warmth.

Draco kissed him and breathed into his ear: "I can't wait for your birthday tomorrow."

"Even though the party will be at the Burrow?"

"Yes."


	7. Enjoy, Cake, Party

The night of Harry’s birthday party was warm and humid, but Mrs Weasley cast cooling charms over the garden and outdoor seating. 

Fairies flew above heads, glowing pink and purple, and dropping metallic glitter on heads. 

Harry’s cake hid in a cupboard under a stasis charm. Draco was eager to reveal it, but Mrs Weasley told him to hold off.

Draco stood with Mrs Weasley, observing their hard work. He nibbled on a biscuit and debated drinking an ale or champagne. 

“You know, I do think we went overboard with the Snitches,” she said.

Snitches flew around guests and under tables; the Snitch banner fluttered above the dinner table, its clear blue background catching the candlelight. The tablecloth and napkins were white with Snitches.

“No way,” Draco said, though he secretly agreed.

A wave of Weasleys spilled out from the house into the garden. Draco had never seen so many gingers. Most recognized him immediately, and he tried to ignore their staring. George Weasley clapped him on the back and laughed.

“Let me know if Bill or Ron try to go after you,” he whispered. “I know all their weak spots.”

Draco leaned back to look him in the eye. “Thanks, mate.”

He nudged Draco and pointed to a very old gran wearing pearls and a scowl. “That’s Aunt Muriel. You should go say hi. I think you’d like each other.”

Shrugging, Draco approached the old woman. She ordered him to get her more champagne. When he returned, he watched her guzzled the flute and burp loudly. Then she pointed to Hermione Granger and whispered: “ _Fat ankles_.” Draco smirked. Yes, they would get along quite well.

When Harry found him a good hour later, he was cackling merrily with Muriel and making sure to frequently refill her flute.

“Don’t you think freckles are just _hideous_?” she said, even though she sported her fair share of them.

“Quite,” he said, enjoying the ridiculousness of it all.

Harry smiled at them, confused. “All right?”

“Oh, yes.” Draco winked at Muriel. “We were just trading gossip.”

“Weasley men like women with fat ankles,” Muriel piped. 

“Huh.” Harry took Draco’s hand and guided him from the table. “Fancy a dance?”

Draco laughed. “You want to dance?”

“Not really . . . but I thought I’d offer.”

“Let’s pop inside for a moment.”

They sneaked into the Burrow, and by chance missed Mrs Weasley in the kitchen. Mr Weasley and his older sons were in the seating area listening to the wireless. Draco dragged Harry into the hallway toilet.

“Is something the matter?” Harry asked.

Draco pressed him to the door and covered his mouth. Harry’s eyes widened. 

“No, I just wanted to suck you off in the Burrow, but you’ll need to be very, very quiet. I’d hate for anyone to _hear_ you.”

Harry moaned softly.

Draco lowered to his knees and unzipped Harry’s jeans. He pulled down his jeans and pants, revealing his stiffy. He teased him by licking at the head of his cock, slowly, his wet tongue tracing the ridges. He dragged his tongue down the warm shaft, then back up again. He took each bollock into his mouth, sucking, massaging. Then he swallowed down Harry’s cock, going deep until he hit his throat. Harry cried into his hand. 

Draco released his cock, spittle stringing from his lips. “Like that?”

“Yes,” Harry breathed. 

“Do you want to come now or later?”

Harry blinked down at him. “What’s later?”

“My arse.”

“Christ.”

Draco hummed and licked his flushed cock. “What’s your decision?”

“Later,” Harry said, but he didn’t move to cover himself up.

“Are you sure?” Draco suckled on his cockhead.

“Fuck, fuck. Why must I choose?”

“Because I said so.” Draco smirked.

“Fuck,” Harry said again, agitated but smiling. “Can you leave? I need to calm down before I go back out there.”

Draco rose to his feet. “Don’t touch yourself when I’m gone.”

“No.”

“We’re doing cake in five minutes. 

“Yes, sir.” Harry grinned cheekily.

Draco rolled his eyes and left. Five minutes later, everyone was gathered around the dinner table outside. Mrs Weasley brought out the vanilla cake, which was topped with beautiful sparklers.

“Happy Birthday, dear!” Mrs Weasley said, blushing from happiness.

Harry turned to Draco, amazed. “You made this?”

“We both did,” Draco said, winking at Mrs Weasley.

Harry whispered in his ear: “Did you think of me when stirring the batter?”

“Of course.” Draco motioned for everyone to come closer. “Let’s sing Happy Birthday on a count of three!”

Groaning, Harry smiled stiffly and suffered through the song. Mrs Weasley muttered a spell and the cake divided into pieces and flew onto waiting plates. 

“Antiques!” Mrs Weasley said, pointing to the delicate floral pattern along the plates.

Draco smiled. “Beautiful.”

“Wow, this is good!” Harry said.

“Don’t sound so shocked.”

Harry laughed. “Sorry. I’m just surprised.” 

Later, after Harry said his goodbyes to Hermione and Ron, and Draco pried himself away from Aunt Muriel, they travelled back to Grimmauld Place.

Unable to wait any longer, Draco dragged Harry up to his bedroom, then crawled on top of the bed.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, and kissed him deeply.

They undressed each other quickly. Draco nearly broke Harry’s glasses in his haste. “Sorry,” he said, laughing.

Harry cast a lube spell and worked two fingers into Draco. “Yeah? Feel good?”

They switched a lot during sex, but it’d been a while since Draco had bottomed. “Just go slow.”

“Okay,” Harry said, his expression focused. He fucked Draco slowly, carefully. They stared into each other’s eyes, and Draco’s stomach fluttered.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” Draco said.

Harry laughed. “I love it when you flatter me.”

“It’s not flattering. I mean it.”

“Darling,” Harry said, and kissed him again.

When Draco was ready, he withdrew his fingers and got into position; then he pushed inside Draco, groaning, trembling a little.

“What does my arse feel like?”

“Heaven,” Harry murmured.

“Good. Now fuck it.”

Harry did what he was told. He thrust shallowly at first, grunting. 

“Please,” Draco whispered, clinging to his back. “I need you.”

“God,” Harry groaned, quickening his thrusts. “Draco. _Draco_.”

“Yes, love.” He arched his back, meeting his strokes. “Tell me.”

“I want to.” Harry rotated his hips, gasping in Draco’s ear. “I’m dying to tell you.”

“Be honest with me. Merlin, I’m desperate to know you.” 

Moaning, Harry pressed his mouth to his sweaty neck, rocking quicker and quicker. “You know me, you know me.”

“Please.” Draco tugged on his own cock, his orgasm mounting. “Tell me. I need to hear it.”

“I’m going to come.”

“Come inside me. Fill me up.”

“Yes, fuck.” Harry pounded hard, groaning. He stilled and whispered, “I love you.”

Draco’s eyes fluttered. He was coming too, his whole world narrowed down to his hand on his cock and Harry’s whispered love. 

Harry collapsed against him, panting. He wreathed his face in kisses.

When he could catch his breath, Draco asked, “Did you really mean it?”

Harry hesitated. “Yeah. Are you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Draco laughed and kissed him on the lips. “I love you, too.”

“Draco,” Harry said lowly, sounding like they were still shagging. 

“I . . . I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

“Oh? How long?” Harry smirked a little.

“Oh, stop. I’ll tell you later.” Draco sat up to search for his clothes. “I should get going. All my clean robes are at my flat.”

Harry hesitated again. “You could stay here . . . permanently.” 

“Are you asking me to move in?”

He grinned widely. “Yeah.”

Draco’s heart beat quickly. “Of course I’ll move in with you.”

“Brilliant!” Harry wrapped his arms around him. “Thank you for a wonderful birthday.”

“Did I make you feel special? Did you enjoy it?”

“Absolutely.”


End file.
